


something to nothing

by blkpnk



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, F/F, Mild Smut, Swearing, lisa angst ofc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blkpnk/pseuds/blkpnk
Summary: There was something there once. Now it's like you're strangers.
Relationships: Lalisa Manoban | Lisa/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> y/n = your name
> 
> re-edited and re-posted original series

_she doesn’t kiss me on the mouth anymore_

You still remember that first time. That first kiss. Not your first ever kiss, but it certainly felt like that. When Lisa captured you in that surprise, a quick and altogether too fleeting kiss, it was like erasing every single instance of kissing someone else before her. You knew that you wanted to do it again. If picking flowers from the side of the road meant that she was so happy — grinning from ear to ear, clutching those stupid daisies like she had never seen them before — that she could kiss you like that, then you would rip up every single flower you saw. You’d give her bouquets of them, and watch her bounce in place, showering petals around her feet like the princess she is.

* * *

The short report of knocks on the door shot your heart into your throat. It could only be one person this late at night and it went without warning. It made you all the more excited. In the futile seconds before you reached the door, you attempted to spruce yourself up. Not look like you had been alone and watching dramas for hours on end without leaving the couch once, even when you spilled sweet and sour sauce on your shorts. Before you turned the doorknob, you decided it was best that you just get rid of them now anyway. You shuffled the shorts down your legs and kicked them behind a couple pairs of shoes, then opened.

You didn’t need to see her to know it was Lisa. You could smell her hair as her mouth latched your neck. You could feel her fingers grabbing at the back of your shirt, seeking purchase, wanting the clothing gone and to feel your skin under her nails. And it wasn’t the first time she used your body to shut a door and to trap you there so she could do as she pleased.

But you did notice how she didn’t bother to kiss you. Not even try. You didn’t want it hurt, and yet it did. You liked kissing Lisa, catching that lush lip between your teeth and hearing her sigh against your mouth because she liked it like that. But she didn’t kiss you. Not when she finished the love mark on your collarbone, or when she ripped your shirt over your head, or when she picked you up around her waist and threw you down on the couch. No. Instead, she thought she could distract you. Distract you by kissing every inch of your body that wasn’t your lips as she travelled down your body, seizing your thigh and slinging your leg over her shoulder. It almost worked.

Lisa worked her best. Her tongue laved through your folds and you groaned, feeling her brush past where you wanted her most. It didn’t take long for her to tease you to the point you couldn’t take it. You could feel your wetness on her mouth when she kissed the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You were shaking, and she was holding you down. Her hot breath grazed your lower abdomen, its absence raising goosebumps, and then she was sucking your clit into her mouth and your back was arching because there were two fingers knuckle deep and stroking a spot inside you like she was trying to pluck free the last seams before you came undone —  
It was the last time you two fucked. You could say “fuck” instead of “make love” because to you there was nothing intimate about it. Lisa didn’t kiss you before she left.

* * *

_she doesn’t look me in the eyes anymore_

Before that first time she kissed you — and that first time she came to you and wanted more than to kiss you — you were friends. You had been friends for a long time. You had both had your shares of partners through the years, watching them come and go from each other’s lives. It never occurred to you that you might have feelings for Lisa. In all honesty, you wanted her to find someone who would make her the happiest and fulfill all the wonderful things she deserves. It was only when it became a possibility that it could be you that you realized you wanted that. To be the one to hold her hand, to wake up beside her, to take her on dates and spoil her, and to be the one she loved back.

It had been a couple weeks since that night. It hurt a lot that she hasn’t come back, that she hasn’t tried to kiss you since then, that it didn’t seem to bother her as much as it bothered you. In fact, it was like she was pretending it never happened. Somehow, she had gone back to just being your friend and never asked you how you felt about it.

Good thing you had a decent poker face. At the very least, she had asked you out for a coffee and didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with you. Even if it was nearly surface level. Lisa picked at the sleeve on her cup, a habit she always had to mess with everything she got her hands on. Ironic, isn’t it? You bit your tongue as you watched her slender fingers peel apart the sleeve, and then she picked it up for a sip, glancing out the window of the café.

“I met someone,” she said.

What you heard was something else entirely.

I’m over you.

“Oh? What’re they like?” you asked, relieved to hear no emotion you didn’t want in your voice.

“He’s nice.” Lisa bowed her head, a small smile on her face. She continued picking at her drink. “He’s a teacher — well, he’s an artist, but you can’t really make money off that if you aren’t popular, so he teaches grade school. He’s really talented, though. He’s shown me some of his paintings and —”

A dull ringing had begun in your ears then, which was nice, because you didn’t want to hear what she had to say. You watched her face light up as she spoke, heedless of your inattention. She didn’t stop, and you didn’t want to understand how she had so much to say about this man in such a short amount of time. Maybe that was where she was going all this time she wasn’t with you. Maybe that was who she was kissing instead of you.

Lisa never looked at you while she spoke, like she was scared to look you in the eye. Not even when you interrupted with an excuse that you were unwell and had to leave.

You did see the smile falter on her face when you stood and walked away, but she didn’t stop you.

* * *

_she doesn’t call me on the phone anymore_

Of course, you had friends other than each other. It was just that you both preferred each other’s company over most others. Still, it never bothered you when she posted a picture of herself with someone you didn’t recognize, out on the town. Or that she had commitments with people that couldn’t include you. That was life. You had always been okay with that. If something interesting came up, or she had no prior plans, you were always the first she would call. You liked being the one she wanted to tell everything to first. You felt important.

You don’t use social media much. You were the kind of person that liked to live in the moment, with a measure of spontaneity that couldn’t be easily captured and then posted. It felt more authentic that way. And if people wanted to know what you were doing or how things were going, they could message you or call you rather than like a status.

And then there were the cases that going on social media upset you. It was rare, and happened more often in high school than now. News was the only real source of distress that you found. You never expected it to be from something that had never gotten under your skin before.

It had been a couple days since you last heard from Lisa. On a whim, you decided it wouldn’t hurt to snoop around on her Facebook, maybe recount some old memories there. You were looking at your TV when you opened her page. When you looked down, your chest had suddenly become too small to breathe properly.

3 days ago. Lisa had gotten a promotion at her place of work 3 days ago. A promotion that she had been wanting and struggling to get for far too long, something you had heard about more than a handful of times and even comforted her on. She had gotten the promotion and hadn’t told you. You were going to take matters into your own hands.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” her cheery voice came through the receiver.

“I didn’t know you were promoted, that’s awesome!” you cut to the chase. Your voice was the slightest bit shaky and you hoped she didn’t notice. “Yeah, it just happened!” she responded. Carefree. “The team took me out for celebratory drinks, I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

Odd that she would say it just happened when you had the proof that it had happened a couple days ago. You couldn’t let it go, not with the way your friendship was already diminishing. There was no stopping it.

“Well, your coworker posted a picture about it a couple days ago,” you started, trying to keep from sounding haughty and confrontational. On your end of the phone, your hands were shaking. There were knots in your stomach. For some reason, tears sprung to your eyes.

There was a stutter from Lisa, and you knew you had caught her in a lie.

“I just meant that it was recent. I guess I forgot to tell you since it was all new and exciting, I didn’t know what I was doing. I promise, I won’t forget next time, it was an innocent mistake. I’ll call you first! But I have to run now, new job calls.”

You hung up before she could say goodbye. You didn’t want to hear it. It was becoming too real and for her to say goodbye would feel too much like the end of everything you had together, including your friendship.

Maybe that kiss, all the times you shared together, all those loving moments were what ruined it all. Did you cross a line somewhere? Did you scare her? Did she scare herself? You couldn’t bear to think about it anymore, and hoped to drown your brain in a bottle of vodka.

* * *

_she doesn’t let me have control anymore_

One of the highlights of your friendship together was the annual beach trip. It was a couple hours drive away, something you couldn’t do all the time with the lives that you lead, but once a year, Lisa and you reserved a weekend to rent a small beach house and get away from the city and stress. It was something you always looked forward to. Swimming in the early morning, sunbathing during the day, bonfires and drinks on the beach at night. It was perfect and just the right treat after all that had gone on during the rest of the year. And it was the best with Lisa who knew just how to make every little thing fun, be it creating seashell necklaces, building sand chairs to sit in by the fire, or just talking at the stars with. It was Lisa who really made the trip worthwhile.

You already knew the answer. You knew it as the weekend came closer and the communication dwindled. You knew it wasn’t happening but that didn’t stop the tremors in your hands, the tears that somehow escaped your notice, or the motion of bringing yet another drink to your lips to burn the sick you felt in your stomach.

It was getting really late, not that you cared if you bothered Lisa by calling her at this hour. It was getting really late just sitting at a bar and staring at your phone as if you expected her to be the one to call. She would have by now if the trip was something that was feasible. But she hadn’t spoken about it once, and she wasn’t calling about it now. You were going to have to be the one to ask about it, but you already knew the answer you would get.

Your thumb punched the call icon and you closed your eyes to prepare yourself. The phone pressed against your ear, your resolve crumbling as you waited. You were going to hang up before it was too late when Lisa finally answered.

“You’re calling about the beach trip, aren’t you?” There was nothing in her voice. Absolutely nothing.

“Too busy?” you guessed, biting your lip afterward to stifle the sob.

A sigh. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t do it. You should definitely go! I’m just too —”

“Too busy, got it.” And you hung up. You hung up because you feared if you had to listen to her for another second, you were going to lose your mind. Even with your eyes shut, the tears still came, and you covered your face with your hands like it would make a difference.

Your heart had been broken by Lisa for a while now, but it was taped together by the hope that she would somehow make up for everything that had been happening since she stopped kissing you. Now, the tape was peeling off and the pieces of your heart were falling jaggedly into your lungs in the forms of weak sobs.  
Lisa wasn’t calling back, and you vowed right there and then that you wouldn’t be calling her again. As far as you could see, you wouldn’t be in contact with her again. You had waited too long for her, but now it was your turn to leave. To leave the wreckage of what could have been great.

“Hey,” a soft voice cooed from in front of you.

You dropped your hands to see the bartender standing in front of you. A pretty girl with soft chocolate hair cascading around her face, a face that was etched with the most concern you had seen from someone you didn’t know. Her head was tilted gently as she regarded you. Really, you should have been embarrassed to be showing your face like this, tear-stricken and probably a mess. A mess from the hands of someone who played with you like a coffee cup and picked you apart to only then discard you without a second thought. Like a stranger passing you by.

“That bad?” she asked, quietly reaching forward to take away the empty glass to clean.

You could only nod. At least the sobs had stopped. You glanced around to suddenly notice that you were the last person in the bar. It was darkened considerably, closed for the night. And for some dumb reason, you were still inside.

A clinking behind the bar garnered your attention and you turned to see the bartender removing a bottle of — surprise, surprise — vodka from the bar’s shelves. Your ol’ friend. A pity drink was in store for a pitiful person like you.

“C’mon,” the girl commanded, taking her coat from underneath the counter and gesturing with her head. “You’re coming back to my place and we’re gonna get hella drunk. And before you can decline, I’ll have you know I’m stubborn and willing to drag you out of this bar.”

That was a surprise you hadn’t been expecting… but it was welcomed. A genuine smile came to you then, and the bartender returned it with one of her own. A wonderful, charming smile.

“What’s your name?” you had to ask as you stood and followed her towards the back.

The girl flicked off the last of the bar’s lights and opened the door out back, holding it open for you. A street light fell across her face in a soft glow.

“I’m Jennie. What’s yours?”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry,” you whispered brokenly. Again.

How many times was it going to be like this? Salt stained lips parted and you watched as Jennie didn’t bother to wipe them away even as you slipped the back of your hand across your own mouth. The same gesture meant to clear the memory away as well.

Every time you closed your eyes and tried to let Jennie near, all you could picture was _her_.

Jennie knew and she understood. A sad smile appeared like it always did and she wrapped you in her arms, expecting the tears to fall more freely as they often did on her shoulder. The sobs cracked through your ribs. You couldn’t keep doing this to Jennie. Told her that. The only response you got in return was always the same. That she would always be there for you, to be the strength you couldn’t find some days.

It wasn’t fair.

* * *

You had found a dear friend in Jennie. In some ways, you thought she needed you too. You frequented the bar she tended most weekends, when there was the time to spare. Drinks were on the house but you tipped her anyway, sneaking the bills into the jar when she wasn’t looking, lest she pull them out and toss them back in your face with a blown kiss. She was too good to you, and god, why couldn’t you just fall in love with her instead?

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that her heart wasn’t completely in it either. You never asked — never felt your place to — but there was something holding her back. _Someone_. And you knew just where to look in her features to catch that glimpse of regret you were too familiar with.

It was fleeting. But if you were careful, you could see it. In the late hours of the bar, when there were few to serve and mindless chores to cater, Jennie would stand there. At the end of the bar, cleaning a glass that had already been polished. Cat-like eyes staring off into the inky dark distance but with a melancholy to them that made your heart weep. It would last a moment, and then she would find her answer somewhere out there in the black and look away. The moment would pass. You would look away before she could notice you watching her.

You’d never want to interrupt a moment like that, especially ask about it.

* * *

“The bar’s hosting a Christmas party this weekend,” Jennie informed, sliding over your usual lemon vodka on the rocks. You opened your mouth to reply (to decline) but she knew you better by now and continued, “And you’re coming. I want you to meet my friend, Jisoo. You’ll love her, and that way, you won’t feel alone while I’m trying to be two people at once.”

“There’s no use arguing, is there?” you replied, smirking. You took a sip from the tumbler, smacking your lips at how she managed to perfectly mix it every time. You didn’t even need to pop in the lemon wedge she sliced neatly and perched on the rim.

Jennie shook her head with a smile. “You’ll enjoy it. And you’ll need to dress up. It’s an event, actually. We’re part of the Santa Claus pub crawl but we also have our own costume party during it, so people dress up as anything Christmas related. Best ugly sweater gets free drinks for the rest of the night!”

“Ugly sweater it is.” The thought of meeting Jennie’s friend dressed as Slutty Mrs. Claus was less than appealing.

The bartender laughed despite herself, only stopping to take an order from a man who had stepped up beside you. The beer hissed, bubbling over slightly as she cracked the top off with practice and tossed the cap into a bucket nearby, handing over the drink. “You mean you don’t want to dress up as some promiscuous version of Vixen? You won’t be the only one.”

“I’ll pass,” you scoffed behind your drink. When Jennie raised a brow and you rolled your eyes, you amended, “On the costume. I’ll come to the party.”

* * *

You were regretting the stuffy, ugly Christmas sweater by your fourth drink. That might’ve been the alcohol making it worse. Or the amount of people crammed in the bar.

Jisoo was just as amazing as Jennie promised. More than, even. The girl never met a stranger, a personality so charming it made you jealous because how could someone be so perfect? Nonetheless, she did well in keeping you involved and keeping you happy. Freeing your mind the second a storm cloud looked about ready to pass over your face. And if you were beginning to sulk, she made sure to push another drink into your hand and add another kiss mark to your cheek. She said it was a tally on how many you shots you had taken but you were sure they were starting to overlap and lose mark.

“I need some air!” you shouted over the strange variation of club and Christmas music that you actually quite liked even if you couldn’t hear anything else.

“Want me to come with you?” Jisoo yelled back, already setting down her mostly empty drink, licking shimmering pink lips that oddly enough reminded you of a heart. Behind her, Jennie was taking the glass away, glancing at you every few seconds.

“No, I’ll be right back!”

Jisoo’s hand hesitated on your arm as you turned to walk away. Your eyes scanned the crowd, a mix of Santa Clauses in various stages of undress, reindeer, elves, and whatever remotely related to the holiday. There was even a girl who managed to pull off wearing a set of bows as her outfit, and you had to applaud her bravery. It looked great but you could never. Setting your best course through the sea of merriness, you started off.

The room tilted and you stumbled into a shirtless partier. You were going to apologize for being so rude and jostling his drink down his glittery chest, but over his shoulder you saw _her_.

Or so you thought.

The words lodged in your throat. The bump forgotten. The man moved on without foul but you were craning your neck and trying to find the vision again. You couldn’t, and you were thinking it wasn’t even real, but the bile that tainted your mouth was and you had to get outside now.

The crisp air burned in your lungs but you gulped it down anyway. It steadied you, brought sobriety to your brain. What little it could. Most days were spent in some level of stupor because you couldn’t handle it. Anything. And this was proof. One little glimpse of disheveled blonde hair and high cheekbones and you thought it was her. There were plenty of girls out there who probably looked like her.

_Lie._

Why couldn’t you move on?

_Because you love her._

But she moved on, she’s with someone else, she’s happier without you —

_Stop. Please._

Brick dug into the palms of your hands. You had managed to stumble around the side of the bar, somewhere Jennie couldn’t see you. And couldn’t save you. God, you were going to throw up right here, weren’t you?

It had been months. Too long. Just the mere sight of her made you sick. Because she wasn’t yours.

Never had been and never will be.

Drunken calls and whoops echoed down the alley, disorienting you further as they bounced. Red and green lights flickered above you, hanging like drops of dyed ice from the gutters and awnings. You were still hot and you were reaching down to rip off your sweater, sit down in the dirty snow under you, wanting to cry —

“She’s here, isn’t she?”

The voice cut through the cold haze. You looked up sharply to see Jennie slipping and sliding a little in her heels as she navigated the alley toward you, stopping only to put a steadying hand on your shoulder. You were keeled over, you realized, looking about ready to retch. The moment she touched you, hell, the moment you heard Jennie’s voice, it all started to melt away.

“I don’t know,” you said truthfully. Tearfully. You sniffled, wiping at your nose, feeling how cool you had become despite the confused heat of the panic attack that had you believing differently. “I think so? I — I don’t know…”

“It’s okay,” Jennie hushed, stepping closer. Drawing you into a hug, warming you. You closed your eyes, inhaling her familiar scent and the sweat of the overpopulated bar. She stopped working for you. “It gets easier — the first time is always the hardest.”

Her words opened your eyes, and you pulled back a little to find hers. See that sorrow you never questioned. The tears that danced in the light but never fell.

“You…” There was nothing you could say.

Somehow Jennie knew. And she nodded. And she hugged you again.

* * *

It had been a week since then.

It had been another party since then. A house party with close friends like Jisoo and Jennie, and too many cocktails.

Jennie sat with you in a closet, drinking her courage as she cried.

You weren’t alone. You weren’t the only one left behind. Jennie saw the same in you as she had witnessed herself, that first time you had met at the bar. There was no way in her good conscience that she could have left you alone to pick up the pieces of what remained of you, much like Jisoo had been there to do the same for Jennie.

Now? Jennie was okay, and she said each day she could breathe a little better. Even if the metaphorical scar remained from where her heart had been ripped apart.

That was what she meant. That night at the Christmas party. It gets easier. And seeing what you had thought had been her for the first time since… since the last time was hard. But the worst was over, Jennie assured. If it happened again, you wouldn’t grow sick and want to scream and cry and never see the light of day again.

It had been a week.

You sat at the bar and threw peanuts in the air, attempting to land even one in Jennie’s waiting mouth. You had always been a bad aim. You laughed as you missed again and Jennie groaned, grabbing a nearby broom.

“I swear you just doubled how much I’ll have to clean tonight.”

“Maybe if I had something to motivate me, I would care enough to actually make one in your mouth.”

“Wanna bet?” Jennie jumped at the chance. You rolled your eyes. “Every time you miss, it’s a shot. Every time you make it, I take a shot. Deal?”

“I’m gonna be an alcoholic by the end of this.” You popped a peanut into your mouth. For protein and to laden your stomach before you inevitably drank your weight in liquor.

“You should’a realized that when you became best friends with a bartender,” said she, reaching along a shelf to select a cheap bottle the bar could afford to lose. You stole that moment to smile sheepishly, a bit of light in your life in the form of Jennie. Your best friend.

The next series of tosses went surprisingly even, and didn’t stop until Jennie was sloshing more of the drink across the bar than into the shot glasses and you were laughing when you rested your elbow and slipped on the tarnished wood. You banged your arm but the alcohol kept the pain at bay for the morning, where a bruise would remind you that you could be happy like this. That you didn’t have to torment yourself with thoughts and memories.

It was getting easier.

That’s what you tried to hold onto as Jennie’s hand rested jovially on your thigh, as you watched her laugh that adorable laugh and she tossed back chocolate waves of hair and you motioned to clink your glass to hers and missed, tipping nearly out of your stool if she wasn’t right there in front of you to catch you.

Jennie caught you that night and she caught you now. Just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt when you pressed to her mouth and she was kissing you back. It didn’t hurt, even as your lips slid along hers and a leaden tongue sought entrance.

But maybe it was that lack of fine control. Alcohol was like that, providing false confidence and then sweeping the carpet out from under you. When you fell, it hurt. The picture clashed behind your eyes, and abruptly, Jennie was losing reality. Chocolate became honey blonde, and the hand on your hip suddenly mirrored the one that used to hold you down with a grip like she would lose you if she let go, and the noise you heard in the back of her throat was the sound of Lisa’s voice when she said —

“Get _off of her!_ ”

This time, someone else was tearing you and Jennie apart instead of your own guilt and shame.

You were out of your seat, stumbling drunkenly on unsure feet, a hand twisted around your wrist as you were ushered behind a figure that hadn’t been there seconds ago. It took your brain several kicks to register, to comprehend, what had happened, and you glanced at the shock riddling Jennie’s features before forcing glassy eyes up to the blonde hair you had been imagining.

Lisa.

“Seriously, it’s not what it looked like,” Jennie slurred, blinking rapidly but expression melting into something like it was all just a misunderstanding, like it wasn’t as dire as it seemed.

You were shell-shocked.

“What are you doing here?”

The words came before you could stop them and they were surprisingly level for all the things you felt right now.

Lisa turned on you then. Anger written in the snarl of her nude lips, the slant of her brows, the glare of her eyes, but all that softened the moment she saw you. Her hair was drawn up in a high ponytail, like she hadn’t the time to change after work. You took in the scarf around her neck against the bite of the cold, and the long grey peacoat, and remembered the position she held at her job now, the promotion she failed to tell you about until you were confronting her about it.

You remembered the boyfriend and the bile started its acrid crawl back up your throat.

There must have been something on your face then because Lisa was losing traction. She glanced between you and then Jennie, and then down to the wrist she still held tightly in her grasp, having torn you away from the sight she had seen. From where? Where did she come from? How did she know you would be here? What was she doing here? She never answered you. Until —

“I — I don’t know.”

It was uncanny how she repeated the same words you uttered the night of the Christmas party. Brown eyes turned caramel danced in the low light, fresh tears catching the reflection. She looked beautiful and torn and… like a stranger.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

And then she was letting you go. It felt like a burn remained where her fingers released your wrist. Tapered heels clacked against the floorboards in the now empty bar, and whereas you couldn’t find her before, you were free to watch her leave. She headed for the door without so much as a backward glance, bursting through into the snow speckled wind.

* * *

It felt like a dream. Or more like a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare but nothing pleasant you would try to cling to in the early hours of a morning to relish.

Jennie tried to distract you in the same vein as apologize. She had nothing to apologize for, and really, you felt like you should be the one to say sorry, realizing later that Lisa had shoved Jennie out of her seat and away from you.

It didn’t bother Jennie, and she didn’t hesitate to embrace you when she saw you next. There was a moment of mutuality, and then she was teaching you how to mix cocktails with Jisoo who had a day off and wanted to spend it with you both.

Jisoo butchered yet another vibrant green lime with a knife she blamed poor maintenance of and so Jennie left to fetch a fresh batch when the door to the bar opened far earlier than any patrons dared to drink.

A girl with pale pink hair and a cute, meek smile and a body molded like a model strode in, bouquet of summer flowers cradled in her arms. You had no time to ponder the appearance, even ask what she could be here for, before Jisoo was digging the tip of the blade she still held into the chopping board, and yes it was still sharp for how it gouged the weathered wood, but what rattled your spine was the look you had never seen twist Jisoo’s features in the slightest.

“Get out.”

The voice was not her own but it still came from Jisoo. It made you feel like you should leave, but she was clearly talking to the newcomer.

“You don’t need to see her.”

The smile on the girl’s face faltered, becoming wary, and then her eyes shifted from you and Jisoo to the return behind the bar.

“Okay, I’m afraid to see you murder another poor — _Rosé…_ ”

Jennie’s hands must’ve gone numb as the small box of fetched limes fell from them and bounced across the floor. Neither you nor Jisoo moved to pick them up.

“Hi,” Rosé murmured a sing-song voice, trying not to look at anyone else but Jennie. After a moment, she stepped forward, glancing at the bundle of flowers before lifting them up as if they couldn’t be seen. “These are for you.”

Still, Jennie didn’t move a muscle. Jisoo chewed her lip until you were sure you saw blood dotting her white teeth, knife still clutched in her hands. You felt suspended, out of place. Rosé saw that Jennie didn’t budge so she took another brave step closer to the bar and set them down on the counter, patting where the cord tied them all together, and then retreated back a pace.

It felt private, and so you removed the knife from Jisoo’s hand and replaced it with your own, forcing her to help you pick up the limes and then yourselves.

* * *

The girl you came to familiarize as Rosé returned at random intervals. Sometimes with flowers to brighten the winter dull, sometimes with a coffee procured to Jennie’s exact taste after a long night, and then with movie tickets.

Each time, Jennie grew softer. But never gave in. A quiet thank you for the gifts. A second of eye contact. The briefest of touches on their fingertips.

“I can’t accept this,” Jennie said after she rebuffed the contact and the tickets. You stood to the side, wiping down the counter for her. At this point, you were an honorary employee who didn’t get paid. Not that you minded.

“I knew you’d say that,” the pink-haired girl replied, tucking a wild lock behind her ear, a small smile on her lips. “That’s why I bought four.”

That caught Jennie off-guard, and she spluttered out, “Four?”

Rosé nodded excitedly. She had gotten braver over the visits, seeing you there with Jennie most of them, and she turned to you now to hold out a ticket she revealed hidden behind the rest. “Would you like to come? It wouldn’t be right without Jennie’s best friend there.”

You opened your mouth to — accept? decline? — glancing at Jennie for any sway in the decision.

A gust of cool February air wafted your back. Before you could turn, you glimpsed the look on Jennie’s face morphing from confusion to concern, something else to focus on. Goosebumps prickled your arms.

“Actually, I was hoping she could come with me.”

Jennie was around the bar and at your side in a blink of an eye. Fingers prodded at the inside of your wrist, prepared to shield you, and it made your heart flutter. Or it could have been who was speaking.

Lisa looked breathless, like she had run here. You knew it was because she was nervous. Knew it without even thinking about it.

“I have four!” Rosé interjected, oblivious to the tension. She held them up, fanned for good measure, smiling brilliantly like it was the answer to all their problems. “I don’t think Jisoo would’ve come anyway, and if she did, it would’ve been to try and drown me in my coke.”

You didn’t miss the fond tilt to Jennie’s eyes as she glanced at Rosé.

“That could be fun,” Lisa said, fingers wringing together in front of her. Warm brown eyes gazed into yours, too intently, and it had to be because she didn’t want to see the way Jennie’s hand still rested loosely on yours at your side. “If that’s alright with you?”

Your heart was in your throat. Why was she here now? You knew logically that you should say no, that you shouldn’t let her back into your life after she so willingly left it.

What did you say you were to her — a coffee cup sleeve, picked apart and thrown away?

You didn’t have to answer.

“No.” Jennie was speaking, a hard line to her voice, cutting. It worked. It cut through Lisa and you saw it in how she practically sagged from the blow, the smile cracking. It hurt you still to see that. “You’ve done enough.”

“Jennie,” Rosé chided, she too losing her enthusiasm. When she reached out to touch the bartender’s arm, Jennie jerked away, against you. Rosé recoiled like she had been shocked.

“What’s going on?” Jennie snapped, a half-step in front of you. Both girls ahead of you appeared as though they had been simultaneously struck. “Did you plan this together?”

“What? No!” Rosé immediately responded. She threw a glance at Lisa, growing perplexed, and then stepped closer, desperate. “ _I’m sorry_ , Jennie. I’m sorry! I’ll say it over and over again! I’m sorry I let what my parents wanted for me decide our relationship!” She held up the tickets in both hands. “I just want to see you. _Please_ , please come to the movies. It doesn’t have to mean anything. _I miss you._ ”

In the background, Lisa flinched. She flinched again and again as Rosé clutched those stupid movie tickets and heard her spill her heart the way Lisa never dared, never tried, to you. You couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t planned. Just a sick twist of fate that they were both here. And you were sure that Lisa would leave again. You saw it in the tight pull of her shoulders and the droop of her pouty lips and the raw skin around her nails as she picked and picked and picked —

Rosé snatched her hand. Lisa’s eyes widened, glancing from Rosé, this stranger she had never seen, to you. Pleading.

“I don’t know what this means for you,” Rosé addressed you now, dragging Lisa closer as you stared at the captured blonde. “And we didn’t plan this, I promise. But please, let me take you and Jennie and—” she stuttered to glance at the stranger’s hand she was clutching.

“Lisa,” she supplied tightly, chest too tight for volume.

“— and _Lisa_ to the movies.”

You failed to notice the nails that were scraping the back of your hand until this moment. Jennie was holding yours, and it was such a strange mirroring of the four of you.

“Okay,” you rasped. You didn’t know why you said that, only that when you looked at Jennie, it did seem to be okay.

What was more — Lisa looked ready to break. And she did, into a wide, watery smile. In the same breath as Rosé.

* * *

pikachu⚡️💛  
look behind u

You and Jennie spared a look between yourselves before glancing over your respective shoulders. Across the movie theatre lobby stood a lone figure donning a plain grey sweatshirt, hood drawn up over a large pair of dark sunglasses. The only detail you knew it to be Jisoo was the heart-shaped lips, and as you both squinted at what she could possibly be doing, she slowly lifted a hand to press a fake moustache beneath her nose. Like it somehow made her more inconspicuous rather than ridiculous.

It did make you laugh despite the jitters.

jen bun-bun🍸🧡  
how the fuck does that help???

pikachu⚡️💛  
lauren or whatever doesnt know what i look like but that other loser does

pikachu⚡️💛  
and itll be dark in the theatre so this is just to help

jen bun-bun🍸🧡  
if ur gonna be here ur gonna be nice

jen bun-bun🍸🧡  
or at least try to

jen bun-bun🍸🧡  
and its lisa and rose

pikachu⚡️💛  
right

pikachu⚡️💛  
the dumbasses who gave up two of the greatest people i know

jen bun-bun🍸🧡  
ur the dumbass wearing a fake stache

You  
that is falling off right now

Jisoo gave up texting in order to fix her disguise on her face, and Jennie rolled her eyes before she was punching you in the arm, suddenly nervous.

“She’s here.”

The pale pink hair you had come to recognize was become more honeyed blonde as the days passed but it was still Rosé walking through the movie theatre doors and right pass Jisoo. You tried not to laugh again as Jisoo made a gesture like she was about to lunge out from the wall and stab her in the back.

“Hi!” Rosé greeted the both of you, skipping to halt and taking the tickets from her cardigan pocket. She handed out two and then paused as she realized there was still another person missing, adorable brows furrowing. “Where’s Lisa? Is she buying snacks?”

“She’s not here,” you responded emptily. Just as you thought, leaving you behind again. For what it was worth, the pain didn’t sink as deep as it would have in the past. Perhaps you were just becoming numbed. You waved a hand at Jennie and Rosé, adding, “You guys should get in line for the movie, I think I’m just gonna head home.”

Rosé didn’t even look at Jennie as she darted forward, touching your arm gently like she was afraid to break you. “No, please! Still come to the movie, I don’t want you going home like this.”

“I should’ve expected this,” you said, removing yourself from her touch even if it felt sincere and not like she needed a buffer between her and Jennie.

“I’m coming with you,” Jennie chimed in, taking the steps to close the space between you.

You stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “No, go see the movie. Rosé spent a lot of money on the tickets.” Rosé shook her head with a frown like it was nothing but didn’t try to interrupt. You still turned, giving Jennie a look that told her to stay before you did, and then started for the door.

Jisoo was preparing to move from the wall and bar your hasty exit but you rooted to the spot anyway.

Lisa flung open the door, unaware, busied with settling her hair from the wind and then smoothening her skirt. The way her lips were parted spelled out her breathlessness again, and her cheeks were flushed the same way you had seen them after a haunted house excursion.

For whatever reason, Lisa was anxious.

When her eyes lifted and caught sight of you, standing apart from the other two, she knew it meant that you had been about to leave. You watched idly, surprised — _relieved_ — she had actually shown up, as Lisa hurried closer, a shaky smile forcing its way out. There was a stammer to her movement, in her hand, like she had been about to take yours but thought better of it and started picking at her cuticles again instead.

There was fresh blood lining the nail bed.

“I’m sorry I’m so late.” Lisa wasn’t really. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” Lisa had for a long time.

“It’s okay,” you said anyhow. Lisa was here now.

“Perfect!” Rosé exclaimed, beyond elated that the original plan was working. She bounced on the balls of her feet, handing over the last ticket that finally had Lisa playing with something other than her fingers. “Why don’t you three get in line and get some good seats, and I’ll try and get us some snacks before the previews are over?”

“Allow me,” Lisa chirped. A gentle brush, as though she wanted to touch you under the guise of stepping by you, and the blonde was patting the other’s shoulder. “You’ve already bought the tickets, it’s only fair I split some of the costs.”

“Hellooo,” Jennie jumped in, glaring at the two. “Do you think we can’t provide for ourselves? I make decent money.”

The pair of taller girls gaped, trying to find the right words to say.

pikachu⚡️💛  
LET THEM PAY ITS THE LEAST THEY CAN DO!!!!!!!!! 😡😡😡😡😡

“Okay, fine,” Jennie sighed, clicking her phone shut once more. “I want —”

“— Sour Patch Kids! I remember,” Rosé finished, beaming.

Jennie let a small smile pass. It was the kind that wanted to be bigger but she was holding back.

Lisa, on the other hand, was fighting to keep from crumpling the ticket in her possession. It didn’t offend you that she didn’t jump at the ready to get you your favourite snack or display the same eagerness. It was enough that she was here at all.

“I’ll come so you don’t have to carry everything yourself,” Rosé breezed over, a hand on Lisa’s elbow to guide her toward the snacks.

“Let’s see if there’s any good seats left,” Jennie said as she looped an arm around your waist.

There was an expanse of four seats situated near the back of the theatre that worked. The space was already dimmed and humming with hushed voices, the previews started but ignored by most. Without thinking, you sat beside Jennie, leaving a spare seat on either side, and again you shared a look to question whether this was smart or not. Jennie’s phone buzzed in beat with yours.

pikachu⚡️💛  
thanks for only leaving two rows between us Jerks

You didn’t even have to look over your shoulder to know the moustached stranger two rows behind you was watching.

A few minutes before the start of Wreck-It Ralph Breaks the Internet, Rosé and Lisa appeared. Their arms brimmed with snacks, Lisa balancing a tray of drinks on her forearm and Rosé hugging two large buckets of buttered popcorn. This time there was no containing the smiles from either you or Jennie as the others barely skipped a beat at the seating arrangement and separated.

“Hi,” Lisa whispered, a genuine smile across her glossy mouth as she slunk her long limbs into the theatre chair and started passing out drinks. As she leaned to hand over Rosé’s, you swore a spark flitted in the close proximity of your bodies, and Lisa’s eyes fell to yours. Like she felt it too. Then she was saying low enough only you could hear, “You smell nice.”

“Thanks, I showered.” It was a joke, one you both had used back in the early days of your fling.

Lisa giggled and there was no stopping your heart thudding against your ribcage.

The movie started, and the time passed slowly. It was funny and cute, a good decision on Rosé’s part, but you couldn’t quite grasp it when all that occupied your mind was Lisa.

One hand held her drink, high enough that she could chew on her straw. Her other hand, the one on your side, remained in her lap. Even without her other hand, Lisa fumbled, picking at the side of her thumb or using her thumb to pick at the rest. They weren’t bleeding yet, no dark colours spreading over the tips, but you didn’t want them to start.

Couldn’t bear to.

You swallowed around the knot in your throat, and without removing your eyes from the blurred screen, you willed your hand to not shake as you reached over and threaded your fingers through the pliant ones you sought.

Effectively stopping the restless pick, pick, pick.

Lisa didn’t look away. Even in your peripheral, you could see the grin curl wide on her lips. The hand in yours tightened, and didn’t let go.

You didn’t want to let go.

* * *

The movie night went without incident, and Jisoo texted the group chat that she quite enjoyed the movie. That was ironic, considering Rosé had to sporadically turn and try to find just who it was in the crowd that kept carelessly tossing Sno Caps, managing to hit her in the head each time.

Lisa had asked if she could escort you home. It ended up with her asking Jennie’s permission, who finally allowed it after giving a look that said more than any threat could.

A hailed cab ride home and your heart was back in your throat, wondering quietly what would happen once you reached your apartment door. A neighbour passed in the hallway and the best you could offer was tight-lipped smile before you were coming to an end at your entry mat.

Turning around, Lisa took a last step. The entire night, the only touch had been the hands you held during the movie and nothing else. Even now, the distance was respectable, Lisa not wanting to invade. How strange it all felt now when there had been so many nights that resulted in a much different entrance across the threshold.

You weren’t sure where to start.

“How’s…” and you suddenly noticed you never caught the name of the man Lisa had been dating. You swallowed and finished, “whatever his name is?”

Lisa blinked. Opened her mouth and then closed it and then opened it again.

“I ended things with him.” It was said like it had been obvious.

“When?” Your shoes were much more interesting then, finding it hard to keep looking up at her.

“New Year’s,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to start the year with a lie.”

Butterflies alit in your stomach but you didn’t let them show.

“Did you think I would be here if I was still with him?” The inflection of her voice was crafted carefully, without any accusations. If anything, it sounded hurt but only a little. Maybe she couldn’t keep it out.

“I don’t know.”

_I don’t know you._

“I’m sorry.”

The dangerous waver in her words lifted your head. Lisa’s eyes were closed, chin bowed. Your heart was breaking in a way that was different than the last.

“I didn’t say it before,” she continued. “But I’m sorry. I’m really _so fucking sorry._ ” Each word was becoming more jagged. “I was so scared. I couldn’t control what I was feeling, what was happening, and I knew if I didn’t do something to stop it that I was going to fall in love with you. I was so stupid. I was so stupid because even after I tried everything I could to feel in control, I knew I made a mistake. I couldn’t keep lying to myself, to everyone. To you.”

Those same fingers started their picking of her nails again. This time, they did start to bleed. You noticed too late that you were crying as you reached out to take her hands, stop them from hurting herself. You had believed that she had torn you apart like a play thing in her reckless hands but now you knew it was simply because she didn’t know how to hold onto you.

Before you, Lisa was tearing herself apart, piece by piece.

“I’m in love with you and I shouldn’t have tried to stop it,” Lisa cried, breaths short and sharp. Eyes still closed as the tears leaked from beneath long lashes. “I didn’t know how to make it better and I didn’t know if you’d ever want to see me again. I — I didn’t know what to do.”

* * *

_too scared of what she’ll see, somebody holding me_

Lisa saw it all.

Through the frosted window panes, the love of her life drowning in drinks of clear liquid, presumably so that when the tears fell inside, no one could tell.

Between the Christmas costumes and decorations, the love of her life kissed over and over on the cheek until the red lipstick smeared and the laughter was for someone else.

Before her, the love of her life kissing another, prettier woman whose touch was gentle and intimate and everything Lisa should have been.

Lisa saw it all.

Lisa lost control.

* * *

Sheets tangled in your legs. You tried to kick them away and kicked someone else instead.

You startled in bed, peeking through bleary eyes at the soft glow of sunlight dripping down the wall from curtains and then at the person beside you.

Lisa was still asleep, honey hair splayed across her pillow. It took you a moment to remember that you had only fallen asleep together, unwilling to let her go home alone but wanting nothing more than to be in her arms again. The strap of your camisole you lent her had slipped over her jutting shoulder, and you took a steadying breath as you tenderly slid it back into place on her collarbone.

Your fingertips lingered, replaying the memory of the few times you had been gifted this rare time to watch her.

In the past, you wondered how many more times you were going to be allowed this before it all went away.

The pillow felt plush and welcoming as you settled back against it. You could be late to work this morning. You wanted this. To hold onto it for as long as you could. Who knew when it would all end?

Sooner than you thought. Lisa stirred, sensing your gaze, lifting lanky arms to rub at her face. Then she was turning, finding you, smiling happily, shuffling closer to wrap you up flush against her.

Something was ending, that was for sure.

But something new lied in the wake.

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t have the original request for this prompt, but i do know it was from the lovely #hayleykanonyme who suggested i write something about the song “strangers” by halsey and lauren jauregui. if you haven’t heard the song, i strongly suggest listening while reading this!
> 
> this was a one shot that was rapidly requested for a second part! :)


End file.
